


Like An Open Flame

by Eustacia Vye (eustaciavye)



Series: Elemental [2]
Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-09-16
Updated: 2006-09-16
Packaged: 2017-10-07 00:44:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,203
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/59533
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eustaciavye/pseuds/Eustacia%20Vye
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Zuko can't keep Katara off of his mind. Eventually, she was bound to find out...<br/><b>Notes:</b> This takes place in Season 2, after "Bitter Work."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Like An Open Flame

_Someday this will all make sense. He's just a boy with a mask, and you're just a girl with a hole in her heart. Someday broken people will get fixed, and it'll all go away._

Aang and Toph had gone off so they could have dedicated earthbending time. Sokka was with them so that he could be another pair of eyes and ears if something went wrong. Katara had originally offered to come with them as well, but they had insisted that she should stay at camp while they trained. Despite her protests, Katara was left with Appa and Momo. She was tired, and had told them she didn't really mind staying behind.

It was a lie, though. She minded it very much.

The flying animals were napping, and Katara puttered around the campsite. Most of her restlessness from a week or two earlier seemed to have burned away, but the emptiness within her remained. Maybe that was why she had been so mean to Toph earlier. Maybe that was why everything seemed to set her off lately, why she couldn't seem to keep her temper. Though she was upset today for an entirely different reason, one that Sokka at least should have remembered about. But he had seemed just as oblivious as Aang and Toph.

Katara sat down on the ground, a bowl of water beside her. She sat down on the ground, cross legged. She kept her eyes closed, and felt the water move in time with her breath. In and out, like breath, like the flow of life within the world. The meditation was supposed to calm her, but it was difficult for her to concentrate. She could still hear the sounds of the forest all around her, Appa's snores and Momo's whistling breath.

From somewhere came the sound of a twig snapping.

Her eyes flew open, and she shot to her feet, knocking over the water bowl. She was soon standing in front of a large mud puddle. The forest was silent again. Katara stood on the balls of her feet, hands at her sides. She looked around in all directions, her attention at its peak. She wasn't alone in the forest. She could feel it.

Another twig snapped, and she whirled around to face the sound.

Katara couldn't see anything in front of her, but that feeling of being watched was back. _The Blue Spirit?_ she thought, remembering the quality of that shiver along her spine.

She turned, stepping away from the puddle forming behind her. Someone was there, just outside of their campsite. Maybe it was that creepy little girl and her strange machine, back for more. In that case, it was a good thing that Aang and Toph were gone. Though one waterbender against a firebender and two weapons fighters would be a fight she would lose. Especially if that girl somehow took away her ability to bend...

A body slammed into her, knocking her onto her back. As the breath whooshed out of her, her attacker grasped hold of her hands and pulled them above her head. She could feel the mud seep into her hair and the outer layer of her clothing. Katara opened her eyes and looked up into the golden eyed stare of Zuko. She couldn't help but gasp in shock.

"Let go of me!" she demanded once she found her voice.

His hands tightened over hers. She might have tried to bend the water from the mud to strike him, but he could just as easily bend fire onto her hands and burn them to a crisp. His body completely covered hers, keeping her pinned to the ground. She tried to push the fear away, but couldn't quite forget the horror stories she had heard about the Fire Nation army as it terrorized its way toward victory. _No mercy for women and children, the old and infirm. They take what they want from whoever they want, raze everything else to the ground..._

Zuko saw how dilated her pupils were. He recognized fear, however much it might have been hidden beneath bluster and anger. "Why did they leave you alone?" he asked, his voice soft and oddly gentle. "Why didn't they take you with them?"

"I won't tell you where they've gone. I'll never tell."

"I don't doubt that," he murmured. His eyes searched her face, taking in the lines and curves and color. She seemed different in daylight, more alive and vital.

He had missed her, as much as it pained him to admit that.

"What are you doing here? Are you following us?" Katara asked, voice harsh.

"Why are you so afraid now? You weren't the last time you saw me."

They both remembered Iroh on the ground after Azula's attack. In his pain, Zuko had spurned her offer to help heal Iroh's wounds.

"How is he?"

"Better. He's not back to himself yet. I don't know if he will be."

"I offered to help."

"I couldn't.... That's my uncle. He..." Zuko stopped himself. He almost admitted that Iroh was more of a father than his own father had ever been. But he had never told anyone this, not even Iroh himself.

"He what?" Katara watched the play of emotions over Zuko's face in fascination. She had never thought it possible, and wondered what had happened to break his reserve.

"Do you still believe he'll save the world? You said he would end this war."

Katara blinked in surprise. "But I... That was the Blue Spirit I talked to..."

"Yes. It was."

"Were you following us even then? Is that why you were there when she attacked us?"

Zuko felt himself warmed by the fire of her spirit. It was amazing that her faith could be so unshakable and pure, that she didn't feel weighed down by her knowledge. Zuko felt so much older than his sixteen and a half years. He didn't feel as though he could survive the war, much less take the throne he believed he deserved.

"You didn't answer my question. They left you alone. Why?"

"It's none of your business!"

Zuko pressed his weight into her. "Isn't it?"

Katara struggled in earnest, echoes of whispers in the back of her mind. "I won't go down without a fight, I promise you!"

"I'm not fighting you," Zuko said, his voice soft.

Stunned, Katara stilled. "Why?"

"How do you still keep your faith that everything's going to be all right? How do you wake in the morning and still follow him, believing in him? How do you do it?" Zuko's golden eyes pierced hers. He felt as though he could drown within their depths, as though she could consume the hollow shell he had become. "How do you stay sure of yourself?"

Nonplused, Katara blinked. It wasn't what she had expected. "I... I don't know. I just... I just do. I know he'll win this. He has to."

"So then why are you here alone and not helping him train?"

Katara licked her suddenly dry lips. Zuko's eyes tracked the motion, entranced. "I shouldn't tell you anything," she replied, her voice barely above a whisper.

"I could listen," he said, voice soft. "Sometimes you feel alone, even with them. Sometimes it's like you're not one of them, even if you're a bender. So why do you stay?"

It was like he had found that hollow void in her chest. It was hard to breathe. "They're doing the right thing," she whispered. "We're going to end the war."

"A bunch of children against the entire Fire Nation army?"

"Someone has to take a stand. Why not us? Why not children? We're the ones to inherit this land once your father's burned it all to the ground. Why don't we try to save it?"

_Maybe it's not worth saving,_ Zuko thought, almost dizzy. Her eyes were so blue, bright like the flames Azula could generate.

"Making me afraid won't change anything," Katara continued, her voice full of the bravery she was trying to feel.

Zuko could feel his body stirring against hers. She really was pretty, he realized suddenly. She wasn't some fragile court girl simpering behind propriety and a fan. She wasn't someone more attracted to the title she thought she would gain at his side. She _believed,_ and she lived with a surety of purpose.

"Why didn't they take you with them? Didn't they have a use for you?" he asked, not knowing why he cared so much. So what if they didn't take her? That's what allowed him to muster up the courage to approach her again. This time, he didn't even use the mask.

She blinked rapidly, clearing the tears that threatened to form. "I'm fine on my own," she replied, her voice wavering.

"You're lying to me," he said, voice firm. He didn't yell or move a single muscle.

Katara blinked again. "It's my birthday today," she whispered finally. "They forgot."

Zuko blinked in surprise. "Oh. Uh... happy birthday."

"What do you care?"

Zuko leaned in close to whisper by her ear. "You said once I could do whatever I wanted, remember? When I said I lived where hope dies."

Katara gasped as she remembered their other forest conversation. "But... That mask... He was a water tribe boy!"

Zuko shifted position and looked her in the eye. "Don't my eyes look familiar?"

"But..."

"Happy birthday, Katara," Zuko mumured. He leaned in and kissed her on the mouth before he even knew what he was going to do. Her lips were soft and his were cracked. The tip of his tongue traced the edge of her lips, and she gasped. Taking that as an invitation, Zuko touched her teeth with his tongue. After a moment's hesitation, he felt her begin to respond. She tilted her face toward his, and touched his tongue hesitantly with hers.

Something sang within his chest, as if perhaps he wasn't an empty shell any longer. He shifted his position, letting go of one of her hands. He trailed his fingers down the side of her face. She was soft, like the flowers his mother used to grow in the palace gardens. They had been deceptively delicate and had liked water, too.

Katara didn't know if she should be outraged or embarrassed. She was now fifteen years old, and this was her first real kiss. She had kissed Aang in the Cave of Two Lovers, but this felt completely different. It felt as if there was a slow burning flame low in her belly, as if the rest of the world had disappeared. There was nothing but the sensation in her lips, the pressure and attention perfectly daring and wonderful all at once.

Their kiss ended slowly, and Katara opened her eyes to look at Zuko. There was no gloating in his gaze, no sense that he had kissed her with anything but fair intent. His hand was actually hovering over her chest, fingertips touching her bare skin.

His touch burned.

Katara couldn't breathe, couldn't think. She couldn't remember those frightening whispers about firebending soldiers and village girls. She couldn't remember the sight of smoldering embers where villages used to be. She couldn't remember the simmering rage bubbling within her when things weren't going smoothly. All she could remember now was the way Zuko's lips felt on hers, the way it felt like an open flame beneath her skin.

"Oh," she murmured, eyes wide. His golden eyes were impassive, taking in the sight of her. His lips were pursed, as if he was about to speak but couldn't find the words to say. Would he touch her somewhere else?

"I don't have a lot to give you," Zuko said, voice soft. "I'm a banished prince. My own sister is trying to capture me. I don't think anything could save my honor now."

Katara suddenly realized her right hand was free. She could bend. She could take the water, bind him, fight him and wait for Aang.

But instead she touched his face, her fingers skimming the edge of the scar. She watched him flinch at her touch, but otherwise not move. "Your honor isn't something that can be granted by someone else. You have it or you don't. It's in your bones if you have it."

_I've been_ banished, he wanted to say. He wanted to call her a twit. Didn't she know how it worked? Didn't she know how bad things really were?

But even as he thought it, he knew he could never say it. Her world was different from his. She didn't know how his world worked. She had her simple faith in the Avatar and that good would triumph over evil. She was a simple tribe girl. She didn't have to deal with court politics and the complexities of honor.

"It doesn't always work that way."

"Then it's not honor you're talking about," Katara said, voice surprisingly gentle. "You're talking about having someone's approval, about having to fight for acceptance. That's not honor. Your sister isn't the honorable one."

Zuko thought of the way Azula had struck Iroh in the chest and flinched. Katara's fingertips moved from his scar down to the normal skin near his mouth. "You don't understand," he ground out, his eyes searching hers.

"You told me I didn't understand. So tell me how it is. Tell me so I can understand."

He found himself telling her about that fateful day he had attended the meeting, the Agni Kai he had to fight against his father. He told her how his mother had missing and presumed dead for years by then. He told her how Azula was a prodigy, how she had always done the most difficult and complicated stances perfectly the first time she did them, how she had mastered blue fire and lightning with no struggles. He told her how hard it was to compete with a perfect memory, how hard it was to find acceptance with anyone but his uncle.

"He loves you," Katara murmured, her hand falling to his shoulder. She gave him a gentle squeeze of support. "He's the one that honors you."

"You haven't listened," Zuko cried, pushing himself away from her.

"I have. Have you?" Katara sat up and rolled to her knees. "He's the only one that hasn't made you feel afraid to be near him. He's the only one that taught you how to be honorable." Katara knelt in front of Zuko, both at eye level. "That's why you protected him from even us, even when I wanted to help. Because you know. You might want your father to honor you the same way, but that's not what he sees when he looks at you. You aren't the child of his heart, and you can't buy your way into that position."

"I can try!" Zuko cried. But even to his own ears it was no longer as fierce as it used to be.

"You can't buy love and honor," Katara said, voice soft. She extended her hand toward him. It surprised them both when he took it. "You earn it from the ones that love you. You earn it in how you treat others. It's not something you buy."

"Then how do you earn it?" he asked, voice soft and hushed. There was no sarcasm or bitterness in his voice, just an honest need to know.

"I don't think there's any formula to it, Zuko. You just have to be the best that you can be. You'll make your uncle proud of you."

Zuko nodded, rising to his feet. Katara raised her hand in farewell as he left the camp, and let her hand fall back to her side once he disappeared amongst the trees.

She bent the water from the mud and returned it to the bowl. After a moment's pause, she resumed her earlier meditations. For some reason, it was easier now. She could feel the push and pull of the water in the bowl. She could feel the water in the air around her and within her lungs. She could still feel the ghostly pressure of Zuko's kiss against her lips, and the remnant of the fire that had burned low within her belly. It was like a wildfire, or maybe a tidal wave. It was something primal and dangerous, something that simmered just out of control. The water in the bowl swirled into a whirlpool, then lifted out of the bowl and formed a spinning top. Katara could see that it looked almost ready to fly apart and spill out on the ground again. But she pushed the water back into the bowl and watched it settle and calm.

She could do this. She could calm herself just as easily.

Her thoughts turned to Zuko, the feel of his skin against hers, the look in his eyes. He had been so intense, so focused. She wasn't used to being the center of anyone's attention, and wasn't used to being noticed so clearly.

She kind of liked it.

It didn't matter if the others forgot it was her birthday, Katara decided. She began to clean up the mess she had made in the camp, and washed the mud from her hair and clothes. Toph and Aang didn't know, and couldn't be expected to know. Sokka was ultimately still a boy, and boys were notorious for being forgetful. He was looking for his next meal, not for ways to notice his younger sister. Katara's mother and Gran-Gran always used to joke about men being nothing more than grown up boys looking for someone to remember the important things. Katara was beginning to see their point.

"Hey, Katara!" Aang called, bounding into the campsite. Toph and Sokka followed just behind.

"Hi, Aang. Did the lessons go well?"

"I think so," he said, nodding. "We found something for you."

He seemed so proud of himself, and Toph and Sokka were openly grinning now. Katara started to get suspicious. "What is it?"

Aang pulled something from behind his back. "We all worked on it. It's for you."

"Happy birthday, Katara!" Sokka cried, looking excited.

Katara gently took the cloth-wrapped item from Aang's hands. "Thank you." She felt almost ashamed for her earlier thoughts. He hadn't forgotten, and he had told Aang and Toph. They hadn't forgotten about her after all.

Katara unwrapped the gift. It was a solid black stone with veins of various colors in it. It was shaped like a tidal wave.

Blinking back tears, she looked up at the others. "Thank you so much. It's beautiful."

"Sokka found the stone, and Toph and I carved it with bending," Aang said, practically hopping. He couldn't keep the grin from his face. "It's from all of us."

Katara gave everyone huge hugs and kisses in gratitude. Her smiles mirrored theirs, and even Appa and Momo seemed to like the gift.

After a while, Sokka looked around the camp. "Hey, Katara? Where's dinner? I'm hungry."

Rolling her eyes, Katara groaned. Some things just never changed. Preparing dinner, Katara gently touched her lips. They still carried the ghost of Zuko's kiss, her other birthday present for the day.

Maybe some things did change, after all.

 

The End.


End file.
